


#Smalltown PRT Problems

by AParticularlyLargeBear



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-09-14 09:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16910196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParticularlyLargeBear/pseuds/AParticularlyLargeBear
Summary: So with one squad and two heroes, it can be a little difficult for PRT agents in a smalltown jurisdiction, but thems the breaks.





	1. Chapter 1

“So, about that date...”  
  
Marie bit off a laugh and hunched down further behind the bonnet of the PRT van. Something splattered across the front of it and not for the first time, she found herself glad of her helmet filter.  
  
“Is this really the time?” asked Marie.  
  
“You can’t see my face but I’m winking roguishly,” said Malika.  
  
Marie did laugh. “ETA on heroes or the solvent?”  
  
“Can’t duck the question foreeever,” singsonged Malika. “Anyway. We won’t see Grabt because it’s a school day, Canoodle could be anywhere, and Graves is probably fifteen minutes away with the solvent.”  
  
Oh right. Graves didn’t have a license so he had to either be driven or ride a bicycle to the scene. Of course, they wouldn’t have needed him in the first place if one of the guys in the back of the van hadn’t accidentally detonated a confoam canister all over the entire squad. The PRT’s finest, ladies and gentlemen.  
  
A mechanical screech resounded overhead and Marie had her shotgun up and trained in an instant. A twisted cluster of metal with a brightly painted design on the front whizzed over the van. Marie obliterated it with a beanbag round and was rewarded with an incoherent scream of rage.  
  
“Hah! Eat a dick!” crowed Malika. Marie smiled tightly. Okay so baiting the villains wasn’t exactly PRT standard procedure but y’know, their town had exactly one bad guy and they made trouble on an almost weekly basis. Sometimes you needed to get payback by any means you could.  
  
“Fuck you! Forty-three was my life’s work!”  
  
“You said that about the other forty-two!” Malika yelled back.  
  
“I spent time in my life on all of them!”  
  
Marie shucked her gun. Three, two, one…  
  
Another drone scampered over the roof. Another shot, and it was sent flying.  
  
“No! Forty-four!”  
  
Giggling would have been unprofessional so Marie definitely didn’t do that if anyone asked.  
  
“Oh hey check it out, Canoodle,” said Malika. Marie twisted around and there indeed was their saviour, huffing and puffing his way down the street at his version of a jog. Guy really didn’t have the frame for skintight spandex, but nobody had the heart to tell him.  
  
“Fuh—fear not stuh—stalwart PRT!” he gasped as he eventually made his way up to them. “Cuh—Canoodle is huh—here! Whew…”  
  
“Canoodle!?” The shriek from the opposite side of the van raised an octave and another foul-splatter of liquid showered upon the van. Great, now they were going to have to take it through the carwash.  
  
“Dastardly villain!” proclaimed Canoodle, leaping into action, running around the rear of the van. His voice drifted back. “Heavens that’s a lot of foam. Oh! Officer Vicente! Hope you’re well. I’m sure your colleagues will have you out in a moment.”  
  
“I am not dastardly! I’m at least malicious!”  
  
The pleasant conversation dissolved into a cacophony of screeching, explosions and exceptionally hammy one-liners as battle was joined.  
  
Malika leaned back against the van and took off her helmet. Sweat-streaked, hair plastered to her face, light brown cheeks flushed with exertion, but with a beaming white smile, it was like seeing an angel reveal itself.  
  
Marie eventually found her voice again. “Fuck, I’m gay.”  
  
Malika’s laughter peeled out above even the din of the fight.


	2. Chapter 2

Making out in the closet had always seemed kind of pointless to Marie up until she wound up doing it.

Like, it was a closet. Cramped, stuffy, couldn’t generally be locked from the inside, significantly greater than average chance of turning your head the wrong way and getting a mouthful of coat. This was not something which dripped with erotic or romantic possibilities.

Possibly it had something to do with the smouldering, no-arguments look on Malika’s face as she dragged Marie in there by the collars. That was pretty much where Marie’s brain checked out, short-circuited by a feeling which she imagined wasn’t far off of a rabbit being swooped down upon by a hawk.

Malika was a laid back person with a slant towards lazy, tackling almost everything with an easygoing and relaxed approach tailor-made for putting others at ease.

She did not kiss like that. She kissed fiercely, intensely, arms wrapped around Marie’s back, entwined like she never wanted to let go. Marie found that she had to cling on for dear life just to keep up, pinned back against one side of the closet while she did her best to reciprocate. Unsuccessfully. Malika was on a mission. A mission which involved an awful lot of tongue. Did she need to breathe? How was she managing this without resurfacing for air every so often? Why was Marie thinking about that when a gorgeous lady was ravishing her?

(This basically counted as ravishing. Even if that made Marie the swooning princess and/or noblewoman, the idea of a knightly Malika was… relevant to Marie’s interests). 

A blazing-hot hand crept underneath Marie’s top, sending her train of thought to a screeching halt, possibly derailing into ‘holy shit’ station.

“Malika—mmph. Malika!” she managed, spluttering slightly.

“Mwyeah?” Malika broke off.

“Are we doing this? In the closet?”

“I mean…” Marie could only barely see Malika’s face in the darkness, but she looked suddenly vulnerable. “Um. I—sorry, this is kind of much isn’t—crap. Sorry, it’s just you did this thing with your hair and your piercings and you were looking so hot and—fuck. I went over the line and I should have asked—”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on. I’m uh…” Marie felt herself flush to the tips of her ears. “I’m not saying no… I just thought it might be nice to not get too crazy. Like, not before our date?”

Malika sighed, all the fierceness sagging out of her. “Ugh, you’re right. Sorry, here’s me ruining tonight by being a horndog.”

“Ah pa pa!” Marie held up a hand, then with only a brief hesitation, cupped Malika’s face, gently tracing her jawline with a thumb. “You haven’t ruined anything, and I went along with it. And it’s um, very flattering to know that you find me that irresistible.”

Malika smiled lopsidedly, leaning into the touch. “As if you don’t know how hot you are.”

“Mali it took me literally three months to realise you weren’t just looking for fashion tips when you kept complimenting my outfits.”

“Well—”

The closet door opened. They both froze, still wrapped in each other’s arms.

Graves was standing framed in the opening, looking as if his soul had departed his living body. For five seconds which stretched long enough for the rise and fall of several civilisations, nobody spoke.

“I’ll… I’ll come back later.” He shut the door.

Malika looked at Marie. Marie looked at Malika.

“Fuck it,” said Malika. “I’m pretty sure I just died. Wanna kiss some more?”


End file.
